


Veil Runner

by BeelzWrites



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Aged up characters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:18:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeelzWrites/pseuds/BeelzWrites
Summary: Alec, a thief with shadowy secrets. Mika, a young man still harnessing his magic power. Sebrahn, a silver haired child driven to heal.Having successfully sealed the evil God - The One - Seriamaius away in a Shard of Time, our heroes have been adrift through multiple dimensions for 25 years. They travel through rips in the fabric of space/time, visiting worlds they could never have imagined. And one day, they'll find their way home.They hope.These are their stories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to pretend I have a schedule for producing these. I'm just going to post them, unedited, as they tickle my fancy.

Scene 1: Hobbits in Gondor

Alec felt his Black Radley bow tremble under the strain of his grip, its slick string taught with the pressure of his fingers. It was a long shot, he was nowhere near his target, and the thing was already panicking and breaking its pre-planned formation. A strange whistle, like a bird call, sounded again around him in the valley, and more arrows that were not his own loosed again from the shrubbery at the beast.

Alec felt the snip of his bowstring flick by his ear as he let his own arrow fly. The song of his Black Radley echoed in his pinna, and despite the cries of battle in the distance, Alec cherished it and found calm in the familiar tune. This bow was, after all, the last gift he had ever been given by…

“Bilary’s Balls,” Mika swore in awe as the creature in the clearing staggered, trumpeting from its devilishly long nose. Its gray ears flapped, as if trying to swat away the incoming arrows like flies. It bellowed from its mushy mouth, sadly, and attempted to dig into the ground with its two, curved fangs. He scratched at his patched but filling beard with his free hand, and hiked Sebrahn up on his hip with his other. “You hit that thing directly in the eye,” Mika gaped.

“It’s still not going down,” Alec growled as more shafts of wood pierced the gray creature’s thick hide. “But the soldiers at its feet have broken formation and scattered. Whoever this hidden force in the woods is… they’re professionals.”

Mika wasn’t listening. He had suddenly dropped the conversation, and was staring blankly over his right shoulder. Black, poisonous clouds billowed up from the peak beyond the mountain range. It was as if the sky had been divided into day and night just at the crest of those mountains. Alec watched Mika’s hollow eyes, recognizing the Wizard Eye spell his companion was using. “Mika? Is everything alright?”

“I sense something…” Mika whispered, adjusting the silent Sebrahn one more time like a patient child in his arms. “It’s close yet… also very far away. And it smells… evil.”

Mika broke off his concentration and stared into Alec’s eyes. “Alec… we’ve been found. They’ll surround us soon.”

“Understood,” Alec breath, drawing his second arrow from its sheath. At first he saw nothing but the trees. But even these hunters couldn’t escape Alec’s keen glare. Though they moved almost silently, he pinpointed the half dozen archers in their positions with ease. A seventh soldier, flanked by two other officers. They all wore green cloaks and brown leathers, swords at their sides, arrows knocked.

“This must be the Captain,” Alec whispered, mostly to himself, though he knew Mika and Sebrahn could hear him.

“I’ll let you do the talking,” Mika said, reservedly. However, he allowed Sebrahn to climb down from his embrace. The little boy, in his bare feet, cantered through the forest, rushing towards the emerging Captain and his guard.

“Sebrahn!” Alec shouted, and the toddler-like boy halted obediently in his tracks.

Sebrahn glanced back at Alec, a confused look on his face.

“Sssssick,” was all the boy said, but Alec beckoned him back to his side.

“Two Elves… and a man,” the Captain said, pulling his hood from his face. He revealed his long brown hair and piercing eyes, taking in the whole spectacle in front of him. “This is an odd day.”

Alec eyed Mika, and they shared the same grimace. It was obvious that neither one of them understood what the man was saying to them. It was a language they had never heard before. Alec remained rigid, his dominant hand on Sebrahn to keep the boy steady.

“What business do you three have,” the Captain continued, his facial expression suspicious, flooded with blood and adrenaline. “Walking in the opposite direction of the Grey Havens? Into Mordor? I would call this strange.”

Alec and Mika did not flinch. Sebrahn seemed to sigh with frustration, but no one was absolutely certain yet if Sebrahn was capable of full human emotion.

“Captain Faramir,” one of the Officers whispered to the unhooded man. “These are more spies of Sauron, it cannot be a coincidence.”

“It must be so,” Faramir stated with authority. “We’ll take all five as prisoners and regroup at the Forbidden Pool.”

Neither Mika nor Alec needed to know this world’s spoken language for the archers in the woods to bind them with ropes and lead them deeper into the forest.

Alec gleaned that they were being taken somewhere hidden. His first clue came when the officers threw black bags over their heads and bound their hands behind them. The second clue was when Alec realized that they had doubled back three separate times; boldly, even, as the soldiers in green made no attempt to hide this fact from their captors. Alec counted his steps, keeping a rough estimate in his head. Just in case they had to find that exact spot later…

When the bags were pulled away, and starlight flickered into their eyes, Mika, Alec, and Sebrahn found themselves in a damp cave, no longer bound but not spared any other commodity or comfort. In the near distance… a waterfall connected to a shallow pool. Alec could hear it and it incessant cascade. They were also... not alone. Two others, huddled in a corner together, shivering and trying to look menacing.

“They caught you too,” said one of them. Alec and Mika stared him, trying to register what was being said to them. The stranger continued in his native tongue. “Or are you here to torture us? Put our feet to the fire!”

The stranger kicked out his bare foot, and Alec recoiled instinctively. It was at this moment - his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the cave - Alec noticed that something wasn’t right with their mutual captives. Their proportions were wrong. They were fully grown adults, but stood no higher than Sebrahn. Alec doubted if they could touch his shoulders with their fingertips, even if they stood on their toes.

This sudden realization was not lost on their observers, and the two of them shared a conspiring glance.

“They’ve never seen our folk before, Sam,” said the other, sickly looking man-child. “Those two, they’re Elves. You can see it in their cheekbones and their eyes.”

“That one there, Mr. Frodo,” Sam mumbled under his breath. “He ain’t no Elf, not by any rights. He’s a Man!”

“You’re right, Sam,” Frodo sighed, too exhausted to argue his point any further. He slumped back down against the rock, staring absently through the break in the rock that allowed the moon to peep through.

“How are you doing in all of this?” Mika asked quietly. He scratched his beard some, looking around impatiently. “I could get us out of here.”

“Not yet,” Alec whispered, still inwardly recounting critical details to himself. “We’re not in any hurry to get lost again. The men in green seem to be taking us somewhere. Let’s find out where, play off our bumbling as cultural amnesia and naïveté. That’s been working for us so far. Besides, it’s not like there’s anywhere we need to be….”

Mika dropped to his knees so quickly that both Alec and Sebrahn jolted upright in surprise. Mika met his eyes with Alec, searching them deeply. “I know it’s been years, Alec. And perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I haven’t! As it happens, I do have someplace I need to be!”

He angrily got back to his feet and huffed out the rest of his hot breath, pursing his lips. Mika crossed his arms defiantly, pinned Alec down with his eyes, and finished: “I need to go home. WE need to go home.”

Alec blinked, wiping his nose with his sleeve. After a heartbeat, he swallowed his apathy in a single gulp, clapping Mika on the shoulder. “We have people waiting for us -”

“We have people waiting for us!” Mika repeated emphatically.

“Seh-reh-gehl!” Sebrahn chimed in, raising his arms up high.

Mika and Alec both stopped smiling for a second.

“Beh-kah! Thar-roh! Kleeeeeee-ah!”

The cheer rekindled in their hearts, and the two of them enjoyed a relieved laugh.

“No, no, Sebrahn,” Alec chastised. “It’s pronounced: Thero and Klia.”

“What I find to be strange…”

The company fell silent. All that could be heard in the air was the rush of the waterfall and blood pounding in one’s ears. A sudden chill broke through their skin, and they perked their ears up at the man-child in the corner.

He was sweaty, and his face had turned a dead white. The life behind his eyes burned brightly, like a forge being stoked, a glazed-golden, otherworldly look.

“Is that…” Frodo continued, his voice dripping with suspicion and malice. “I can’t seem to… pick up on what kind of Elvish you two are speaking.”

Alec didn’t move. The hateful tone and dark glare was all he needed to understand the situation. Regardless of any language barrier, these signs and gut-instincts were always right.

“Look at you,” Frodo almost chortled. His cracked, dry lips split bloody as he grinned. “You’re paying… such close attention to me….”

Alec squinted.

“Trying to… figure out what I’m saying.”

Mika flared his nostrils in a steadying breath.

“So… desperate. So… alone.”

Alec glicked his eyes toward’s Mika, but Mika was not looking back at him.

“You need to see?” Frodo asked, his timber quivering. “You need to…”

Sam started up from his seated position, finally realizing himself what was happening. But it was too late. Frodo had pushed aside his shirt was reaching for it.

Frodo extended his forefinger. His whole body seemed to shake with some sort of power bottled up within him, but still his finger moved. Neither Alec nor Mika dared make a move. Mika, sensitive to the foul humors polluting the room, slapped his hand to head as if to stave off a fever. He hissed to himself, grabbing a handful of his own hair in apparent pain.

Alec looked back at Frodo, his eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry,” Frodo said, unconvincingly. “You just need to… watch.”

“Mr. Frodo, don’t!” Sam shouted.

Frodo smiled back at his friend and grinned past his teeth, spitting out:

“Soora thasali, Sam.”

Frodo’s confident expression shattered when he felt fingers on his skin. Somehow, the white-child Elf the three strangers had brought with them had made his way across the room and had taken his wrist in a firm grasp.

“What are you doing?! Stay away from me!” Frodo shouted at the top of his lungs. Sebrahn did not even flinch.

“Sssssick.”

Sebrahn reached out his silver-skinned hand, pushing deep beneath Frodo’s clothes and started to pull away his mithril mail shirt. Panic swelled up with him, a fear so fierce he felt he might vomit then and there.

“No, don’t TOUCH IT!”

For a few moments, Frodo’s thoughts were of overcast clouds and flooded flower pots in black rain. But once he opened his eyes again, the sense of relief he felt was soon consumed with overwhelming confusion.

This… albino Elf child… was laying his hand directly over Frodo’s stab wound. The Morgul Blade that nestled there still rattled in his shoulder when his nightmares were real enough. Frodo looked into those strange silver eyes in awe and mystery, something he hadn’t remembered being able to feel.

“Sssssick,” Sebrahn said again.

“What is that word you keep using?” Frodo asked, his bright blue eyes shining naturally once more.

“Sssick.”

“Do you mean… hurting? There is pain here? Hurt?” Sebrahn looked away, inspecting Frodo’s wound, then searching Frodo’s expression once more with a blank visage of his own.

“Hurrrrrt.”

Frodo gasped, but nodded enthusiastically. “Hurt, yes. It hurts. Very much so.”

Sebrahn moved his hand down, and Frodo resisted the urge to stop him. His toddler-like fingers took hold of Frodo’s necklace, on which was suspended his bane. Sebrahn took it in his hand, inspecting it closely, then… appeared to lose interest.

He held the golden ring on its chain up to Frodo’s face, and Sam - the background - grunted his disapproval.

Sebrahn let the ring hang in the air for a heartbeat, then stared directly into Frodo’s soul.

“Hurrrrrrrrt.”

“MY PRECIOUS! GAAAAAAAH!!”

Everyone in the company, even Sebrahn, jumped at the echoing shout of anguish as it reverberated over the rock.

“Sebrahn!” Alec called in his native tongue, insistently. “Here, come on! Here!”

Sebrahn let the ring slip from his fingers with ease and dawdled over to Alec’s awaiting embrace. Not even seconds later, the brunette officer from that morning stormed into the room.

Captain Faramir saw nothing and no one in the room, except Frodo. And the now exposed, golden ring.

Alec was paying attention however. The Captain had a strange look in his eye… one that wasn’t there before. A fiery, golden, hateful look.

“You,” Captain Faramir commanded, pointing the tip of his drawn sword into Frodo’s mail shirt.

“Alec,” Mika growled through a clenched jaw. “Now’s our chance, let’s break out of here.”

“No,” Alec stated, shaking his head. “Something’s not right here. Something…”

Two more soldiers emerged from the darkness, carrying a grey, unconscious creature. Unceremoniously, they threw this malformed monster to the hard, rocky ground, chuckled to themselves, and disappeared again.

“Bilary’s fucking codpiece,” Alec gagged, covering his nose with his sleeve. “That thing reeks.”

“You’re only now just smelling that?” Mika hissed. Alec was about to make a retort when he noticed that his companion wasn’t talking about their new prison mate.

Mika was staring intently at Frodo.

“When you furrow your brow like that,” Alec sang, almost to himself, “you look exactly like Master Thero used to.”

“I’ll talk that as a compliment,” Mika grumbled, squeezing his own chest with his arms even tighter.

“We’re taking you all to Osgiliath,” Captain Faramir said, and a group of soldiers with black bags emerged at the entrance. At last, he acknowledged Alec, Mika, and Sebrahn. “All of you.”

The black bags were slipped over their heads, and once more there was darkness.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Scene 2: Dragorgohs

Alec glowered darkly over the campfire. It had been only a day, and already there were antagonists emerging. Gone were the black bags that hindered their view, though they were still bound; except now they were allowed to have their hands out in front of them, instead of behind their backs. Sebrahn - cordially - was not bound at all, but had been… instructed… by the officers in green cloaks to not leave Alec’s side.

Alec stealthily fed Sebrahn a drop of his blood from his finger tip when no one was looking, if for nothing else than to make the bruises on his son’s skin go away.

So Alec glowered. And he glared. And he breathed heavily through his nostrils while sitting on a log, his legs splayed out to take up as much space as possible. And across from that campfire, obscured from his view by smoke, was his Black Radley.

Leaning forward, illuminating his face over the flames, he stared until the soldier in green could no longer abide being in Alec’s field of view. The soldier stood, fondling the sleek arches and grooves of the bow with his soiled fingers. In spite of their language barrier, the soldier understood.

“That’s. My. Bow.”

Alec said the words slowly and deliberately, as if it would help somehow.

The soldier sneered, searched his surroundings for friends, and laughed when he saw the brigade snickering behind him.

“What you say?” the soldier asked, purposely snorting a little.

Alec gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

“That’s my bow.” He punctuated each word by pointing his finger with each syllable. Alec stood, and the soldiers stopped laughing with a succinct cough of surprise. Alec repeated himself, and the gestures.

“That.” He pointed at his Black Radley. “Is my.” Alec pointed at himself. “Bow!” He jabbed his finger one last time at the Black Radley, then steadied his stance for a brawl.

Nobody moved. The fire crackled for several seconds, and then the soldier clicked his tongue.

“I have no clue what you’re saying boy,” he quipped, twanging the Black Radley’s string irreverently. “I have to guess though, that you’re admiring my new bow.”

He thrust the Black Radley out in front of him, aiming down the sights. “Neat little thing,” the soldier mused to himself. He clipped open the Radley’s mechanism that allows it to come apart for easy storage. “Well I’ll be. Is it supposed to do that? Or did I break it like a twig?”

The soldier loosened his grip, and the Black Radley clunked to the ground, terrifyingly close to the campfire. Alec sprung, but a call cut through the darkness.

“Rangers!” Captain Faramir shouted, and each man snapped to attention in a salute. The small campfire brought light to his eyes as he peered through the shadows of the enveloping shrubbery. “I would like you to explain to me what is happening here.”

The soldier stammered, tripping over his words, but at last responded.

“I… dropped my bow, Captain.”

“Then pick it up. And clean it off. Rangers do not treat their bows with such disrespect.”

“Yes, ser.”

“This Faramir guy,” Sam mumbled to himself. “He may have us tied up like cattle, but… I don’t think he can help being so angry. Least ways not after hearing about his brother, I suppose…”

Sam broke out of his thoughts to see Mika had sat himself closer to Sam than to Alec. Sam wasn’t particularly in the mood for company. However, this man didn’t feel so foul, and beneath the grime and dirt and crumbs in his beard, his face wasn’t hard or malicious. In fact, his eyes positively sparkled like…

“Like fireworks,” he finished for himself out loud, thinking of a poem he wrote so long ago.

Mika inched closer again, then patted Sam on the back with his dominant hand. Sam didn’t recoil at all, welcoming the friendly embrace from a kind-feeling man.

“You’re not like those others,” Sam said, knowing full well Mika couldn’t understand him. “And I don’t mean just those Elves. You’re not like those other Men either. Who… are you?”

Mika smiled gently, then shook his head, not understanding.

Sam pointed at him. “You’re different, is what you are.”

Mika cocked his head to one side. “Different,” he said, trying the word out on his tongue. He shook his head again, as if the word didn’t taste right.

Sam didn’t move as Mika reached out his hand to cup Sam’s face. Sam was enamored by this stranger, and wilted as Mika’s warm hands caused his cheeks to blush with joy. Mika leaned down, arching his back, and placed his forehead against Sam’s. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

When Mika pulled back, he braced Sam’s shoulders and met his gaze.

“Wizard.”

A latent tear streaked down Sam’s face, and Mika brushed it away without thought.

“Wizard?” Sam repeated, his voice cracking.

Mika nodded deliberately, then smiled a hearty smile. He stood, and once again joined Alec’s side by the campfire, but Sam felt he had been made warmer just by Mika’s meer presence.

Alec had just gotten comfortable next to Mika once again, when Sebrahn became impertinent. And then insufferable. With a roll of his eyes, Alec stood and took Sebrahn’s hand in his. Mika caught Alec’s cloak.

“Alec, no.”

Alec looked back at Sebrahn, then shrugged sheepishly to a concerned Mika as Sebrahn led him away towards Frodo.

“Oh, hello,” Frodo said politely. These strangers reminded him of friends long lost, and it wasn’t so bad to have the three of them around.

“Helllll-ohhh,” Sebrahn said slowly.

Frodo smiled, but was taken aback. “You’ve… learned more of the Common Tongue?”

Sebrahn nodded, his silver hair flowing around his shoulders. “Lang-age… ee-zee. I… learrrn.”

“Who taught you how to speak?” Frodo asked, not expecting a comprehensive answer.

Sebrahn looked into his eyes. “Smeeeeee-gulll.”

Frodo swallowed dryly, instinctively looking around the campfire for Smeagol. He saw his guide in the shadows, tied to a tree where Sam was close by, keeping watch. When had they… been talking to each other? Frodo had never even noticed.

“Hey,” Mika shouted. When no one paid attention to him, he stood from his spot, bellowing: “Hey!”

This caught everyone’s attention.

“Get that THING away from Sebrahn!”

Sam, riled by his wizard friend’s sudden outburst, clattered to his feet too.

“Hey, Stinker! You get away from those Elves, hear?!”

Sam struck the shrieking Gollum with his fists, but it wasn’t shutting Gollum up at all. The creature yelled and shouted and shrieked in unthinkable volumes for something so small.

“Stop this! Stop all of this!” Faramir commanded over the din. “The enemy will hear! We must be quiet! Silence them! Silence them!”

As the soldiers restored the camp’s peace, Mika remained firmly planted where he stood. And he watched Frodo closely. And he made sure that Frodo knew… he was being watched closely.

“I smell you, you foul thing,” Mika whispered in his native tongue. “You don’t fool me. I can smell you…”

When the camp had settled, Faramir stayed on high alert, convinced their position had been compromised. Just when he was about to give the signal to return to normal duties, he heard a faint trumpet.

Alec heard it too. He lifted his head, immediately recognizing the sound.

Faramir waited, listening to his breaths. Until he heard the noise a second time.

“That’s no trumpet,” Faramir cursed to himself, signaling for his men to break camp and fan out for cover.

“Wait, wait!” Alec shouted as the soldiers began to pair off. He grabbed the Captain by his cloak and shook him. “Bow! Bow! My… BOW!”

Faramir couldn’t understand. “Unbind these two, quickly.”

“Bow!” Alec repeated. He flailed at Faramir’s own bow and knocked arrow, desperately compelling the man to understand.

“Get this Elf a bow and full quiver!” Faramir commanded. When the bow was handed to him, Alec growled in frustration.

“No! No!” He pointed one last time at the Black Radley. He searched Faramir’s eyes in the extinguishing firelight. “My bow.”

Faramir turned his attention to the man carrying Alec’s Black Radley.

“Soldier… give him back his bow at once.”

As soon as the Black Radley was back in his hands, Alec drew an arrow and launched it past the soldier in green’s head. Then a second and third in immediate succession, each one slicing through the air and by the man’s head in a different direction. Harsh cries of pain popped through the trees, and bodies fell in the darkness.

“Haradrim stragglers!” Faramir cried. “They cannot be many, take them down!”

Alec continued to advance into the trees, until his quiver was empty. Then the trees parted, and a cry rang out through the battlefield:

“OLIPHANT!!”

Too late Alec looked up to see the gigantic beast plowing its way towards the camp. It was crazed, and frenzied, and missing an eye. It stomped, unstoppable, and Alec was directly in the path of its rampage.

As the Oliphant charged, Mika stepped out from the trees to defend Alec and impede the beast. With no hesitation, Mika extended his arms and snapped his fingers.

The oil casks on the Oliphant’s back-carriage ignited suddenly and erupted into a magnificent inferno. A ball of fire rocketed skyward, and erupted into a million burning stars. The Oliphant, frightened, injured, burning… crashed into the trees and tripped over its own feet. It fell with a thunderous crack onto a broken tree trunk, impaled to the ground on its side. Shortly after, its heart burst from the stress, and it died quickly.

“That’s all of them,” a solder informed Captain Faramir as they regrouped back at the camp.

“No casualties in spite of being caught off guard.” Faramir didn’t have much time to consider his victory, as another cry pierced the woods.

“Ringwraith…” Faramir grunted, recognizing the demonic shriek.

“I hear no Fellbeast,” said a ranger.

“He’s on foot,” Faramir confirmed, feeling the darkness encroaching closer to their camp. “He dismounted to confront us in the woods with the Haradrim forces.”

“We can’t beat a Ringwraith, Captain!”

“Grab the halflings,” Faramir commanded. “We break camp now and run for Osgiliath. Who knows how many more reinforcements are this close to the crossing.”

“And the Elves, Captain?”

“Leave them!” Faramir growled angrily, his expression changing. “All that matters now is the Hobbits! Get them to Osgiliath!”

“The archers are in full retreat,” Mika noticed, looking back as the rangers ignored them completely.

“It’s a rout…” Alec breathed in disbelief. “We’ve beaten the attackers, but they flee…”

The distinct cry came again, and Alec’s blood turned to ice. He met Mika’s eyes with his and they both spoke in unison:

“Dragorgohs!”

A tall figure in a flowing, black cloak silently drifted into view, as if on wheels. Its faceless void turned towards Alec and Mika, and it shrieked again when it caught sight of them. Advancing like a mist in the night, it drew two blades from beneath its cape, brandishing them with evil intent. 

“You don’t frighten me, demon,” Mika scoffed, and cast out his hands with a shout. A blinding white light encased the approaching Ringwraith, and it writhed and screamed… but it did not vanish.

“Isn’t it supposed to vanish?” Alec asked, becoming concerned. The shadowy creature seemed to be becoming accustomed to Mika’s spell.

“I don’t understand,” Mika growled in frustration. “Master Thero invented this spell… it should banish the Dragorgohs back… to its master!”

The Ringwraith fell silent, fighting the encasing white light with each step. But advancing closer all the same. 

“What’s wrong!” Alec gasped in disbelief. He took up a sword from off the ground and braced himself.

“I don’t know! It’s… it’s anchored here somehow!”

Alec conquered his fear and stared into the blinding light of Mika’s spell. He squinted, his eyes seeing what Mika’s were missing.

“That’s no Dragorgohs…” Alec spat. “That’s just a man!”

With a desperate cry, Alec sank the sword into the Ringwraith’s chest, and it burst like a black clouded bubble. The blinding light turned into a gleaming ball and shot into the sky towards the East and those evil looking mountains. 

“So the necromancer is in the East, eh?” Alec asked, feeling relieved for the first time in a long time.

“I don’t think we’ll need to find out,” Mika mused, collecting Sebrahn into his arms. “Look there.”

A dark curtain billowed in the nonexistent wind. It looked like a hole in the night.

“The Veil is torn…” Alec commented, sounding crestfallen.

“The destruction of that creature and my magic must have split open the void,” Mika postulated.

“Well…” Alec started. “Should we go through?”

Mika looked at Alec dreamily, kissing him gingerly on the lips.

“You know the answer to that, tali.”

Alec went to pick up the sword he had found before, but it had been shattered in the subsequent explosion. However, Alec’s keen eyes caught the dim flash of steel beneath the Ringwraith’s cloak. Hesitantly, he picked up the sword from beneath the rotting cloth. 

“A black blade…” he mused to himself before sheathing it at his belt.

As the three of them walked through the void into a new world, Sebrahn looked back one more time, but saw nothing that held his immediate attention. The darkness enveloped around them, and all at once, they were somewhere else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Scene 3**

**Too Many Stars; Too Many Wars**

It had been a few months now. Alec, Mika, and Sebrahn - together - built themselves a small cabin with what resources were available to them. It was tough. They didn’t know where they were, but the air was humid and heavy, almost like there wasn’t enough of it to breath.

Meditation was all but impossible for Mika, because no matter how deeply he drew in breath, it felt like he was swimming in sauna steam.

It must of have been some sort of hell. Or an other-dimensional version of what Mika would call a hell. He found it difficult to weave magic in these conditions, which was frustrating for two reason. The first being that he could feel his magic in him. Particularly the Red Magic. And when he meditated, the Red Magic flared like an inferno, and each time he tried it, the experience frightened him more and more.

The second being: Alec was sick. Some sort of infection in his sword arm. Mika theorized it was more residue from the Dragorgohs they had defeated. Yet it had been weeks, and the scourge on Alec’s skin was only increasing.

They considered giving a knife to Sebrahn and letting the boy heal Alec, but both men were afraid of what might happen to the boy in a plane they had only been inhabitants of for several weeks. Alec preferred to ride it out, and every day he got a little bit more flushed. Mika preferred to meditate on a magic healing solution for his Talimenious, but each time he delved further and further past his apprehensions…

The more terrified of himself he became.

As Alec played and trained with his new Black Blade, Sebrahn watched, impartially. Only Alec was counting the missteps, and they were many. His fever wasn’t breaking, and his right arm felt like it was… frostbitten.

“Alec,” Mika called, his voice taut and thin. “Alec, can I… speak with you?”

“Always, Tali,” Alec said without hesitation.

Mika’s bottom lip quivered. His eyes were already bloodshot from crying - most likely somewhere private - but he continued to voice his concerns.

“I’m… scared.”

The dam broke, and Mika’s tears fell in earnest all over. He crumpled slowly to his knees into the grass. He clutched at the green blades, ripping them up by their roots from the soil. He then slapped his hand to his head, covering his eyes and mouth so that Alec wouldn’t see.

Mika felt his partner settle next to him, and they embraced together until Mika’s hiccuping sobs subsided.

“There will always be another Veil that opens,” Alec started, trying to sound optimistic. “We’ll make our way home somehow.”

“That’s…” Mika cut himself off. It pained him that Alec hadn’t immediately understood, and that he would have to explain himself with words after all. “I’m scared of me! I’m scared of… this world we’re in!”

Alec’s face hardened, and he sprung at Mika. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“The Red Magic…” Mika explained. “It’s so strong here, it… if I let it come out… I would never be able to put it back in again, I know! I know that, Alec! Once that cork pops…”

Mika stared blankly into nothing, his thoughts foggy.

“I’ll explode.”

Alec swallowed. He kissed Mika’s left cheek, and then his right. They stared at each other for a shared heartbeat, and smiled.

“That I’d LOVE to see,” Alec whispered, winking coquettishly. Mika sniffed, brushing the tears away from his eyes. Alec stood, casting his view about their surroundings. He pointed, about a mile downhill, a man-sized boulder that buried halfway into the ground.

“That boulder. That’s a nice boulder.” Alec thought to himself, briefly. “Bring me that boulder, Mika. Pull it out. Bring it up here.”

Mika stood, his face even and stoic once more, but his cheeks were glossy and his eyes were still red. He held out his hands and concentrated.

Alec danced on the balls of his feet as the ground beneath him trembled. And trembled. And trembled. And soon, it got to the point where the ground shaking was no longer impressive to him. “Okay, Mika,” Alec cooed, softly, trying not to discourage his love. “It’s just a boulder, it really shouldn’t… be… tha…”

Beyond the motionless Boulder.

Three mountains.

Levitating evenly above the horizon.

The very veins of the planet itself left exposed for the first time in millennia.

“Okay… Mika…” Alec started again, not ashamed to acknowledge that he was cowering a little behind the younger man. “That’s… that’s good, I think I… get the idea now.”

Alec’s keen eyes watched as a flock of confused birds flew hastily UNDER the mountain chain.

Mika - a tear streaking down his face - whispered in utter disbelief to himself:

“I could… do this all day.”

\-----

“We’ve wasted enough time in this Quadrant,” the Officer said with a snide tone. “How many years did we spend here looking for this Luke Skywalker, and now, our Dear Leader just so happens to want to sweep this area of the Galaxy for a fourth time.”

Kylo Ren - from behind his faceless, space helmet - kept quiet long enough for the silence to start hurting. His heavy boots clunked over the metal floor of their Starship. No other officers or guards impeded him, as Kylo Ren, clad all in black, rounded on this nameless First Order Officer.

“Yes.”

The room hummed with machinery and the twittering of computations being perpetually run through the station. No one else spoke.

“Therefore,” Kylo Ren continued. “As Leader of this Expedition… and the terrible mishandling of the Star Killer Base by General Hux… it can only mean one thing. There’s been-”

“An awakening,” the Officer scoffed, finishing Kylo Ren’s sentence for him. He chuckled under his breath, confident that his peers were doing the same, if only inwardly.

“We sweep this Quadrant a fourth time - “

“Should be easy, I already know all the best hiding spots.”

“- Then return to the Supreme Leader to report -”

“If we get it done quickly, we might even get to celebrate Life Day this year!”

“- And if you keep insisting on interrupting me -”

“Not that I’ve ever celebrated Life Day, mind you -”

The Officer’s neck snapped at a 90 degree angle. He slumped over, dead.

Kylo Ren lowered his extended hand. The computers in the room bubbled with flashing lights.

“I want our fleet split into two and initiate a pincer maneuver, but then -”

The Force struck Kylo Ren like lightning through his spine. All the air was knocked from his lungs, and gasped through his black helmet, his gloved hands wringing the clothes that surround old wounds.

Kylo Ren’s thoughts were swimming.

What?

Where!

…

_Who?_


End file.
